


the soldier, the civillian, the martyr, the victim

by mydeerjoshua



Series: 100 suns until we part [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Divergent AU, Gen, I'm rating it T just to be safe, also minor character death but it's none of the boys, others make appearances but I don't wanna spoil it, there's a very very brief mention of suicide and blood but I swear they aren't graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 05:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10530186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeerjoshua/pseuds/mydeerjoshua
Summary: Four choices.[a prologue one-shot for an upcoming series in a Divergent AU with Seventeen members - year 2]





	

**Author's Note:**

> FIRST OF ALL: If you haven't read the previous one-shot of the series please do it now. There's a major spoiler in this one regarding a previous character.  
> If you have already read it: ayyyy welcome back to this mess! 
> 
> For everyone: this is based on Veronica Roth's Divergent Trilogy. I've made small changes in the system just to suit my story but it's barely there. You don't really need to have read the books (or watched the movies) to understand this, but you may get a couple references.
> 
> As you may have read on the tags, there are characters that I chose not to inform so as to not to spoil the fun of finding out their Factions. I didn't want to omit the ship though (thus spoiling some of the surprise, I'm sorry) because well, maybe Junsol is an unwated surprise idk suit yourself I guess.
> 
> Last but not least, same curious fact from the past one-shot: we have four nouns in the title but more than four characters. Also, the order of nouns and characters may not coincide with what they represent in the story. Or does it? *wink wonk* 
> 
> Enjoy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Side: Jun_

They say the Chasm is where you go whenever you want the end of your life to be another brave act in your Dauntless account. Many elders, as they reach an age where they can no longer serve their Faction to their fullest, choose to dive into the ravine and let the current wash them away instead of becoming Factionless.

The water splashing on his boots reminds him of a grand feast when he was a child barely understanding what it really meant to be a Dauntless. His parents had expected him to cower on their side but Jun had showed a bravery not unknown to their family.

“ _The Dauntless blood runs in you, young man,”_   Jun can feel the kiss on his forehead even now, years later as he stands over that same bridge, hands clasping the railing behind his back. He peers the other side, where no matching railing protects passerbies from falling.

It was not protection what his grandparents had seeked when they made their decision, but it was protection what Jun felt when he hugged them goodbye and stepped aside to watch their last big adventure unfold before his eyes. That was the only time he allowed himself to cry for them, because he knew their deaths weren't sad ones. _“There's bravery in knowing when to go,”_ his mother had said.

It's not that kind of letting go he is thinking of now but the advice speaks to him all the same. He can picture his future in the thirty meter fall he hopes to toss his heart into, fifty years or so from now. But there's a “what if” that hasn't ceased ever since he saw his grandparents diving in. Did their feet ever stutter on their way to the Chasm, were their hands sweaty and trembling as they held each other? Did they have enough time to regret or did the fall mute any last thought they might have had?

Jun was too young to think about those decisions but now he's old enough to make them. He knows what it means to choose Dauntless. He thinks he can taste the salt water on his tongue, feel the sharp rocks on his skin. It scares him. But he can also imagine a life among family and friends, serving his Faction and filling his days with...

“Jun-hyung?”

The smile comes easily when he knows who's waiting at the end of the way.

“Hansol-ah,” Jun whistles when Hansol comes into view at one side of the passageway. The lack of railing makes Hansol hesitate but when Jun beckons him closer, he goes. When Hansol steps into his arms clinging a bit tighter than usual, Jun doesn't complain.

“Everybody is looking for you, you know,” Hansol's blond hair tickles under his chin. Jun cradles him against his shoulder, protective.

“Are they?”

“Yeah. Jeonghan-hyung says we gotta celebrate.”

“Celebrate what?”

“The Choosing Ceremony, of course.”

The look Hansol gives him makes Jun almost regret having doubts at all. His mother had warned against choosing Factions based on relationships but given she was the one who cheered the most when Jun officially brought Hansol home as his boyfriend, it's an advice he takes lightly.

“So what? Zipline again?”

“Getting piss ass drunk, according to him.”

“And then the zipline, I suppose.”

“I told him that would get someone killed.”

“I bet that's exactly what he wants.”

Hansol's laughter is his favorite sound. Jun thinks he would go anywhere that voice led him, be it into another Faction, be it into the breaking waves under their feet. But that can wait a few more years, when they're settled and happily married. Right now, the only choice he has to make is whether he'll join Jeonghan's antics or if he'll keep Hansol to himself.

“There you are, both of you! Come on, we're leaving in five!”

Of if he'll just kick Jeonghan from the Chasm himself.

 

X

 

_Side: Soonyoung_

“Stop kicking the apples.”

The thing about being part of a peaceful community like Amity is that any minor demonstration of discontent has people frowning worriedly at you. Soonyoung has seen enough frowns his way to mind and hide any bit of outburst. Following that he's taken a habit of wandering around the orchard, close to its outskirts where no vigilant eyes can complain about his behavior. It's frustrating then, that someone happens to catch his mask slipping when he thinks he's safe.

It's not that Soonyoung doesn't have the right personality. He's got the right intentions, is what everybody says. It's just sometimes he feels too much. He's too loud, too restless, too cheerful. Enthusiastic to a flaw whenever their sense of community – harmonic, lively but peaceful – gets under his skin. It's not so much impatience as it is frustration when he's trying his best to keep the Amity spirit but runs into this wall that says he doesn't really understand it.

The memory of a sting ghosts the skin of his arm and he's ready to argue his misbehavior when a familiar face comes into view. For once in his life seeing Jihoon's cold stare seething into him is a relief _._ Soonyoung's smile is genuinely apologetic – less for the fruit, more for being caught.

“I'm sorry Jihoon, I was distracted.”

Jihoon quirks a skeptical eyebrow but says nothing as he picks the apple by Soonyoung's feet, dropping it into his basket. Soonyoung's own basket lays forgotten at the roots of a nearby tree, empty where Jihoon's is slowly filling.

Jihoon is as much as the posterchild of Amity dressed in a yellow sweater and baggy pants, diligently collecting fruits for the communal meals. His warm appearance constrasts greatly with a reserved personality that only shows in the polite introversion of his working. But anyone who truly knows Jihoon is sure he is everything Amity needs: hard working, peace loving and artistic. Jihoon is calm melodies in a guitar while Soonyoung is discharging dancing energy.

It's obvious who truly fits.

“So, are you ready for it?”

His feet nudges a rock distractingly, his basket untouched on the ground while Jihoon's is firmly clutched at his side. The words are meant to sound casual but the silence stretches a tad too long for Soonyoung to be comfortable. It's good that Jihoon has his back facing him, too busy picking fruits to see Soonyoung chewing on his lips.

“Ready for what?”

“The Choosing Ceremony.”

“We have the Aptitude Test first.”

“Like you don't know where you're gonna end up.”

The blank stare Jihoon gives him is enigmatic. It's always been a wonder how those soft features hide a truly analytical mind, scanning his surroundings for details, evidences, flaws.

Soonyoung knows exactly how flawed he is.

“Don't you?”

“You know me.”

The smile on his face is as convincing as the sigh of defeat on Jihoon's lips. It's not a conversation they want to have, no matter what years of friendship have built for them. Still, Soonyoung wants to trust Jihoon with all of his where's and how's and why's. Maybe his friend could give him an insight as to _what the fuck is wrong with him_. But Soonyoung's temper is something Jihoon doesn't comment on, out of respect or consideration or indifference, he doesn't know.

“Jihoon.”

The lunch bell shakes birds out of nearby trees and his courage flies away. Jihoon gives him a questioning look but he's already heading back home. Soonyoung doesn't have the heart to say he may not follow.

 

X

 

_Side: Wonwoo_

What follows his Aptitude test is predictable, so it's a wonder the euphoric state in which he leaves the mirror walled room. It's a good thing school is over for the day, the schedule shortened to grant students the time to mull over their results. Wonwoo wouldn't be able to think about anything else even if he tried.

Irrationality is something Erudite dedicates its existence to erradicate so Wonwoo takes two deep breaths to calm his mind. He tells himself there's no reason for reacting like this. He had already gone through his fair share of reflection and evaluation. The Aptitude test result, he had previously decided, should play no major role in his decision because he knew himself. He knew where he belonged. But confirmation has always been the ultimate goal in every questioning made within Erudite and Wonwoo can't help the need to share his discovery.

The only thing holding him back is the strict rule about not speaking about the Aptitude test. Withholding information is something his Faction deems unacceptable, but in this case the secrecy is for the actual benefit of the users. If one had previous access to the test format no doubt there would be some – like him and the rest of Erudite crew, of course – who'd want to master the model and manipulate the odds to achieve a certain goal. Namely, be selected to their desired Faction rather than their natural one.

The result isn't a mandatory one, though. It may help candidates decide their possible transfer but the final choice relies on themselves. It's up to them to judge themselves fit for their chosen Faction's principles and philosophy or pay the price for mispredicting their potential. The mere thought of failing – thus becoming Factionless, a renegade – has his hands sweaty.

Virtually though, that outcome is impossible. There's always a slim room for miscalculated odds, sure, but Wonwoo is a honored student, a brilliant mind among a million. He trusts himself and he trusts the system that has allowed him to do so. There's only one place ahead of him and it is, naturally, the Erudite Headquarters.

Home.

 

x

 

_Side: Jihoon_

The apple Chan gave him for breakfast is a reminder of home. Jihoon hadn't dared take a bite of it, carrying it all the way from the farms to the city. It rests in his hand, heavy like the words the boy offered him as encouragement. _“Best of luck, hyung,”_ Chan had said as if he knew Jihoon wasn't going back. Jihoon's answer had been a neutral hum, barely acknowledging as he ruffled the boy's hair.

The memory of their morning exchange replays at the corner of his mind as the Factions assemble in the Hub. The crowd's murmuring makes him think of dry leaves and bird chirps. _“No”_ , he corrects himself. _“The melody is wrong.”_ Because at Amity the birds imitate their whistling, and their whistling was composed by him. There's no such familiarity in the voices surrounding him. He clutches the apple, reminiscing.

Chan had confided Jihoon in all earnest that when the time comes he will leave. One would naturally disregard such straitghforward answer, both for Chan's young age and the environment he's grown up in. Life at Amity is easy and safe and not many ever consider leaving for greener pastures – Amity does pride himself in having the greenest pastures, after all. But they're similar, him and Chan. Jihoon would never dismiss the boy's words for minor things like his looks or age. He knows Chan has always been too mature for his years, ripe like the apple in his hand.

Jihoon, on the other hand, feels somewhat spoiled. Years nurtured on Amity have done little to reassure his will. He knows his part in the greater scheme. Live and lead a peaceful life, part the fight and be kind. Nothing he's never done in the past seventeen years. Nothing he can't do for the next seventy. But doubt plagues his mind and festers his crops. He's too young to make this kind of decision, harvested before his time. Only, the season is right and it is _now_.

His eyes travel to the back of the room, where his parents await. They smile at him despite unknowing of his choice. His mother points at Jihoon then motions towards her mouth, mimicking. _“Eat,”_ she seems to say. Jihoon can't cling onto this apple forever. Better eat it while it's still plump.

“Wen Junhui!”

The first bite is easy like Wen Junhui's choice. Dauntless is a distant world Jihoon has never spared too much attention to contemplate. The only thing he knows is that they share a fairly similar role with Amity – keep peace, that is – but their means differ enough to have them never crossing paths. They also share a very strong sense of community, it seems. It's rare for Dauntless borns to stray, keeping theirs to theirs.

He swallows and Junhui reunites with his Faction.

“Kwon Soonyoung!”

The second bite it's too big and quick, a lump on his throat as he watches Soonyoung making his way down. He chokes on juice and someone has to slap his back to help him swallow or spit, he doesn't know. It's all confusing coughing under a collective moan that shakes the Amity crew. Jihoon doesn't understand it at first, having missed the world during his little distress. When his eyes land on Soonyoung, nothing makes sense.

“Jeon Wonwoo!”

A million questions are shushed bite after bite of sweet rotten as he registers the born Erudite walking back to his former – now forever – Faction, clapping hands overloading his senses. Jeon Wonwoo bows, shake hands, takes his seat back among his equals. And beside him, Sooyoung stands.

Jihoon doesn't understand.

“Lee Jihoon!”

Jihoon doesn't know if he gets to finish the apple. All around him are arms hugging, hands reaching and one or two affectionate kisses as he descends to the stage. The host – a representative of Amity, how ironic – greets him briefly and then the knife is brought. It weights on his hand just like the apple did. It stains it red, likewise.

The cut on his palm sears the last of his crops and Jihoon is left with ashes he isn't sure where to pour.

He could burn it all down in the hot coals of Dauntless – let ashes turn black and make him reborn. He could scrutinize it in the glasses of Candor – let it bring all clean and true again. He could lay them to rest at the grey stones of Abnegation – let it bury his (past) self forever. He could wash it away in the water of Erudite – let it guide him to the fountain of knowledge.

Or he could sow them in the soil of Amity – let it blossom back to its former self. Like apples. Like home.

“ _Best of luck, hyung.”_

Jihoon can taste the red on his tongue.

“Erudite!”

 


End file.
